12 Days of Ichigo Torture
by windxalchemist
Summary: Ichigo doesn't seem to mind being tortured, whether it be mentally, physically, or verbally. [A Livejournal IchiRuki Comm Challenge] [IchiRuki]
1. The Worst Kind

Title: The Worst Kind  
Torture: Guilt Trip  
Author: windxalchemist  
Warnings: (Possibly OOC, possible spoilers if you haven't watched past the Soul Societ Arc)

* * *

He lay in bed next to her. He felt her deep, steady breathing against his chest. He looked at the various bandages on her body. Even under those clothes, he knew where each one of them wrapped around her petite waist, and thin arms. His eyes stopped at her neck. He couldn't look at her without a lump forming in his throat; without a rush of guilt showering over him. 

He couldn't bear it anymore. He sat up, burying his hands in his face regretfully. Remembering what he'd done…to _her_.

* * *

_The maniacal high pitched laughter filled the air. The supreme knowledge with which the Hollow within could use Zangetsu was frightening. She knew that it was too much for her; she could not defeat him._

_"Release him!" she demanded. In vain she knew, but the raven haired shinigami was not one to give up easily. Especially not on him. "Let him go! Damn it all!"_

_The menacing laughter ensued once more. "Release Ichigo? When the fun's just started? Ah, Kuchiki-san, you are so boring!"_

_Her temper flared as the yellow eyed being mocked her. She unsheathed her zanpakutou. "Sode no Shirayuki!"_

_It wasn't quick enough. The Hollow was already prepared to attack. All she could do was watch helplessly as it twirled Zangetsu by its scarf, lacerations forming over her skin._

_"Do you still want to go through the trouble of releasing him? Wouldn't you rather he belong to me?"_

_Before she'd even a chance to retort, the Hollow had her against telephone pole. His brutal hands were sinching around her slender neck, asphyxiating her._

_"Never," she managed to choke out, spitting in its face._

_With that, the vice around her neck became stronger still, and her world began to haze, as spots of black blurred her vision. She knew; it was the end. Out of nowhere, a cry erupted from the thing in front of her._

_"STOP, DAMN YOU! DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH HER!"_

_She fell to her knees, gasping for air. She watch it in horror, the inner battle within Ichigo. Rukia took this as her chance to prepare an attack, should the Hollow succeed. As soon as she came behind to slice open its mask, it disappeared._

_"Boo," she heard its manic voice in her ear._

_She turned around, not a moment too soon, and was only able to block the attack. Even that had her crashing into a nearby wall. Rukia felt her bone creak as she tried to evade the nearing Hollow. It bent down on its knee, meeting her eye level. Its neon yellow eyes leering her. This…thing that called himself Ichigo. It wasn't him. Ichigo would never hurt her. Never. Ichigo would never smile like this; with that menacing mockery playing on his lips._

_"Your fighting skills don't seem to be up to par, Kuchiki-san. Is it because of this body? Because of __**Ichigo**?"_

_She couldn't answer, nor did she wish to._

_"Gomen, but, he's not there with us," it continued to smile that damned smile. "He's gone, Kuchiki-san," it siad after a moment's pause._

_"Liar!"_

_She screamed._

_Embracing the Hollows neck in her arms, she screamed. It was unlike anything he had ever heard before. It was… the cry of an animal. Not something that someone so beautiful should have spilling through her throat._

_"Ichigo! Snap out of it, you ass!" she shrieked into his ear._

_She felt him jerk, as if awakening from a deep slumber._

_"Rukia! Get away from me!" he ordered in a choked voice._

_"No!" she held on, even as he started to convulse wildly._

_"NOW!" he bellowed. "Damn it! Go away!"_

_"Don't you wish to be stronger," the same mouth asked. Only this voice, was not his own._

_"I don't need you!" Ichigo insisted, more to himself, almost, than the beast within him._

_"More than you think you do." The Hollow had control once more._

_"Rukia! NOW!" he demanded._

_"Over my dead body," she answered heatedly._

_The Hollow didn't hesitate when given a chance to kill. Zangetsu nearly sliced into her, when there was a feral cry coming from his throat. "Get the FUCK away from Rukia, you bastard!"_

_She was tossed aside like a sack of rice. Only able to watch as his fingers groped for the mask._

_He finally ripped off the white abomination of a face, and his eyes returned to their normal color, but there was a new hue meshed into those amber irises of his. Pain._

_His breathing was heavy, as though ever breath took an extreme amount of effor. He pulled himself up, trembling, using Zangetsu._

_She stood up slowly. "Ichigo! Are you-"_

_He slapped her. Loud and clear. Enough to leave welting, red finger marks._

_"Bakamono! I told you to get away from me! I told you already! But you refused to listen! Dumbass! I thought you knew! That thing insde of me! That thing! It…it'll hurt you! It won't hesitate to…_

_"Even if I'm not here, even if that…thing takes over me, you have to save yourself damn it!"_

_His frown was replaced with a new expression. One of pure anguish. He looked as if he were being put through the most excruciating pain known to man._

_"It won't hesitate … to kill you. So whatever you do. Save yourself. Please." He spoke in a voice he'd never used with her. He wasn't asking, he wasn't even demanding. It wasn't even an order or a request. No, Ichigo was begging. _

_"Ichi…go-"_

_He crushed her frame against his own._

_Her eyes widened in surprise, then slowly closed. She listened to his erratic breathing alternate from inhale to exhale. His trembling grew stronger, as did his hold around her. So strong it nearly cut off her air supply. He let his face fall into the crook of her neck._

_"Rukia, I'm…" he whispered into her ear. The contrast of his hot breath on the sweat of her skin made her shiver. "So…so sorry."_

_He used that begging voice again._

* * *

He couldn't even look at her neck without letting the regret suffocate him. Even in the moonlight, he could see that the purple bruises had transcended into a sickly shade of green. 

The guilt, the agony, he couldn't stand how they ate away at his soul. How could Rukia sleep so peacefully? Without a care in the world. Even while knowing that…that _monster _inhabited his body! Could she, would she love him, even now?

He stroked his fingers along her knuckles ever so slightly, just barely touching. He wouldn't dare to do more. He felt as though if touching her would bring her more harm.

"I'm sorry, Rukia." He murmured for what seemed like the millionth time that night.

"Don't apologize, baka," she replied, grasping his fingers in her miniscule hands.

He slightly jumped, then flinched at her touch, hand tensing up. How could she still touch him so casually? The same hands that tried to kill her.

"Don't feel guilty," she said. "The guilt you put yourself through is the worst kind. Get some sleep."

He compensated her with a slight upturn of the lips, "Okay," he lied. There wouldn't be the luxury of sleep for him tonight.

But Rukia was wrong. The worst kind of guilt was the kind he felt. The one where Ichigo blamed himself, but Rukia who should have been blaming him, forgave his undeserving, filthy skin.

* * *

Good? Bad? Let me know. 


	2. Complete Fools

Title: Complete Fools

Torture: Tongue Lashing - July 5th  
Author: windxalchemist  
Word Count: 1,135 words.

Pairings/Characters: Ichigo, Rukia, Urahara, ichiruki.  
Warnings: Post-Soul Society Arc, major spoilers for post chapter 195.

Okay. So, people didn't seem to understand the concept as to why the fuck did Ichigo slap Rukia in chapter one. It was because she was hugging him while he was in "Hollow Mode," and could have died if Ichigo didn't take over at the last moment. So, he got so mad to a point where he slapped her for not caring about her own life, for not running away. Yeah. Kind of dramatic, yes.

I don't know if I actually tortured Ichigo in this story. But, I thought that the torture of being without Rukia was the torture. Then again, I guess you'll be the judge of that.

* * *

They were walking home together.

Home.

Together.

For the first time in what seemed an eternity, he was able to breathe freely, without that feeling of constriction threatening to crush his already damaged heart. It felt as though if, he'd been dreaming for the last however many days, and that _**this**_ was his reality: with _her_.

* * *

_"Ah! Kurosaki-san, what can I do for you today?"_

_He was standing in the threshold of the old fashioned shop. He didn't plan on staying long, so he stood there, closest to the nearest exit._

_"This." He held out a doll sized package. "Hers. Rukia…her gigai."_

_He had trouble accepting the fact that that __**body**__ wasn't Rukia. Even though the gigai no longer retained her form, that thing was the roommate that Ichigo had sneaked away in his closet the past five months. As sentimental as the shit sounded, he felt like… he was giving a part of himself away._

_"She wanted me to return this to you," he explained._

_Ichigo shuffled his shoes off and walked over to the round coffee table. He gingerly placed it down on the surface._

_As he would a body._

_Rukia's body._

_He stared at it. At the package that had drab print reading: "Gigai: Faux Body. Rest your soul here!" Was his skull __**that**__ thick as to refuse to accept the fact that the doll wasn't her? Or was he just pig headed? Either way, it still hurt._

_"You miss her?" the voice cracked his concentration on the box._

_He looked up at the man, suspiciously searching his face, but he couldn't find a trace; nothing that was taunting him, or poking fun at him. He was merely asking._

_"Who?" he answered coldly, putting up an uncaring façade._

_Really, as if Sandal Hat didn't know any better._

_The blonde haired man raised a brow knowingly._

_"Pfft, stupid Sandal Hat," he muttered to no one in particular._

_He left the doll in Urahara's care. He felt that maybe, leaving her gigai on the table would help him realize that she was truly gone. Maybe then, the numbness would dissolve. Maybe, just maybe, he would stop missing her._

_Fat fucking chance._

_So what if Ichigo did miss her? Didn't make him any less of a man. The former 13__th__ squad captain just liked to target his jibes at him…for no particular reason._

* * *

He looked at her, smiled, fondly almost.

"What are you smiling at, dumbass?" she suddenly questioned, landing his thoughts back onto earth.

* * *

_Was this real? Staring stupidly was all he could manage at that moment. If he tried to pull anything else, and his mind would have gone entirely blank. Was this another one of his delusional daydream? Most likely. He'd been having lots of those as of late. He almost didn't want to look again; for fear that it __**was **__another hallucination. And Ichigo doubted that his sanity could remain in tact if it took another major blow like this._

_But when she gave him a taste of her familiar upper cut, and dragged him by his hair, he knew that it wasn't a daydream._

_It was __**her**_

_Kuchiki Rukia._

* * *

His eyes wandered back to her irritated face. This sunset was reflecting off of her pale skin.

'Quite stunningly,' he noted absentmindedly.

It'd been a long while since he'd seen such beauty.

* * *

_"Even if you can't rely on anyone else, just pull yourself together and roar!" she lambasted at his sloppy, uncertain state; at his self doubt, his fear._

_'Tch,' he thought, 'shitload harder than it sounds.'_

_Right then, almost as if reading his mind, she continued, "The 'You' that still lives on in my heart, Ichigo, would do __**exactly**__ that!" _

_Suddenly, when she bellowed at him like that, everything became clear. No reason, no rhyme. Everything, everything was clear. That constant aching in his chest was gone. Not healed, but just gone. As if it had never existed in the first place._

_It didn't matter. Nothing else was important. She was screaming at him, just like she used to. That's all that mattered._

_Just that: one little lecture, and the hollow in the school yard was vanquished with a new confidence. He could feel it: the energy seeping back into his bones, the reiatsu that flowed through his veins, the will power, the cheeky grin that he had plastered onto his face, that manic sort of defiant glint in his eye that said, "I'll show you." It was back._

_All of it._

_Because of her._

* * *

He blinked in surprise at her clearly pissed off expression. Her brow was arched questioningly, and had even started to twitch.

"Ano sa¹, Rukia?" He softly said, ignoring her previous query.

Her dark, long lashes lifted up, and those midnight orbs glanced up in surprise at the sudden gentleness in his voice; all traces of irritation were swept out of sight. It was just her.

Just Rukia.

"You've been living on in my heart too," he said quietly, smiling.

She continued to look up at him blankly, until it clicked. She gave a callous retort, scoffing, "Have you gone and turned yourself in a **complete** fool during my month long absence?" She continued to walk in front of him.

That was a slap to the face.

"No," he mumbled darkly. He could a blush sporting in his cheeks, and his usual scowl made its way back onto his brow.

Note to self: _Never try to tell Rukia that you might have, (__**might**__ have, mind you), in any way, missed her._

He followed suit and walked behind her, when she abruptly stopped.

Turning around, she smiled. Not that arrogant grin of hers, nor was it that sugary abomination that she called a smile while she was in the mortal world. Not even that smug smirk that seemed to have taken permanent residence on her lips. She gave a genuine smile.

'_A __**gorgeous**__ genuine smile_,' he remarked to himself.

"The 'You' in my heart was pretty nice, but I'll give you the points for actually existing. Even if you can be an ass sometimes."

He reciprocated the smile. He understood what she meant. Something like, "I missed you too, baka."

Note to self_: Never try to tell Rukia that you might have, (__**might**__ have, mind you), in any way, missed her. That is, unless she pulls out the rug from under you like that._

With that _gorgeous_ smile of hers.

It seemed that his reality, this one, the one with _her_, it was essential for her to screame, berate, and lecture.

All in all, Ichigo _needed_ it almost as much as he need her.

As much as he needed Rukia.

* * *

¹ "Ano sa." – means: "Hey, you know…"

How was that one? I think the one from yesterday was kind of out of character. Everyone had qualms about Ichigo slapping her…and some people didn't understand why I had him do that… So that idea was a failure. T-T

But, no fear, this is to practice. I will become better.

The whole idea of this piece was an Ichigo thought process thing, and humans aren't like computers, where they digest millions of thoughts at once. So, I thought I'd give it a try. I don't know if it really worked. I also think that the flashbacks might be a little confusing.

Let me know.


	3. Or so He Thought

Title: Or so He thought…

Torture: Whipped

Author: windxalchemist

Word Count: 794 words

Rating: K+

Characters/Pairings: Ichigo, Rukia, ichigo/rukia

* * *

He was running.

A lot.

"Ichigo," the voice called out.

That voice. His mind was racing. Where could he hide? Where could he run? His opponent knew him well.

Too well, almost.

He retreated into the nearby forest, hoping for a momentary breather. And did he need one. The blood that was pumping, the adrenaline that ran through his veins; this was an all too familiar scene. Yes. The scene of…

Training.

"Hadou #33, Soukatsu!"

He made a mad dash.

Wasn't training supposed consist of more than just running?

Not according to Rukia.

She was his sparring partner. Or so she said.

More like she was trying to kidou his ass off.

The bitch.

"Ichigo," Rukia called out to him a singsong voice.

It unnerved him when she used that high itched fake voice.

Very much, in fact. The last time she called his name like that, he'd ended up with a bloody nose, a black eye, and multiple bruises over his body as proof. Yes, sparring with Rukia meant having a full-blown introduction of kidou shoved up your nose; willing or not.

What was the woman thinking?! Wasn't the fact that he was gasping for air enough evidence that he needed a break?

"Tut, tut, Ichigo. Your guard is down," a feminine voice admonished him.

Immediately, he whipped around, to be met by Rukia's zanpakutou: Shirayuki. He blocked her offense just barely quickly enough. A second later would have meant that he'd resemble a little something like meat on a shish kabob. Shunpo, he decided, did indeed become very handy during his spars.

He ran out of the clearing, hiding behind a tree. He sighed in relief, that is, until she sprang up at him out of nowhere.

"Hya!" she yelled in satisfaction, as she squarely aimed a kick at his abdomen.

Bullseye.

Ichigo was sent flying out onto the field where they had originally started their spar. He landed on his back. He gave a loud groan as he felt the creaking in his bones. Yes, he was starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel now. The constant sun beating down on his skin didn't help matters.

Suddenly, a shadow was blissfully cast over him, shading him quite nicely. He saw two feet on either side of his head.

"What's wrong, Ichigo?" her voice challenged.

"Hmm, gee. I don't quite know, Rukia. Maybe it has to do with a certain pre-menopausic midget shinigami who sadistically seems to find joy in trying to kill me," he shot back angrily.

"Whatever will we do? I guess someone's getting a little cranky," she bent down on her haunches before falling into a full sit. Her tone was that of a cat leering its prey. In this case, he didn't want to think of what more she could possibly do to him.

"I'm' too tired for this shit, Rukia," he muttered.

"Oh really?" she asked, using the same tone.

Maybe he was just too damn exhausted. Or his senses weren't functioning properly after his excursions. Most probably her kidou had damaged his senses. He preferred to believe the latter. Either way, he sure as hell wasn't prepared for what Rukia threw at him next.

He felt her slender fingers grasp his head.

"Rukia, I get it. You wo-" he began to moan in complaint.

That is, until she eased his lips into an upside down kiss. The moan vibrating through his throat had transcended into one of great pleasure. As soon as he let his eyelids fall, her hands roamed around his face and neck. He felt Rukia's mouth trail kisses down his collarbone. She had started to suck on that square inch of skin under his jaw.

"Dear god," he managed to choke out. And even that, in a restrained, clamped voice.

Her hands began to traipse along his body once more. This time, her fingers made way down to his chest, under his kimono. Then, she stopped.

"Wait. I'm sorry. I guess you're, 'too tired for this shit.'"

She was taunting him. And too his augmented horror, it was working exceptionally well.

"No, I'm not. When did I say that?" he murmured in an injured voice.

In response she propped her face onto her hands, leaning in on her elbows. Which also gave him a nice view of-

"Oh, I see. So you're _not_ tired?" she inquired.

"No!" he confirmed, exasperated.

"Oh, well then-" she started to say.

Much to his fancy, she leaned into his mouth for another kiss.

Or so he thought.

As soon as their lips brushed, she began her unfinished sentence once more, "-I guess you can go spar again?"

And as much as that sounded like a request, Ichigo knew better.

It was an order.

* * *

Hmm. I don't have much of an author's note. Except to explain that I had a power outage in my neighborhood. According to the management office, we have been using too much power. It was like 11:00 at night, and suddenly my computer and lights shut down on me. And I was like, "WTF?!" It's because the whole of our neighborhood are using air conditioning even when going to sleep. --;;

I'd say sorry for the delay, but not that many people read mine anyways. So. It's all good. :D


	4. Something New

Title: Something New

Torture: Water

Author: windxalchemist

Word Count:

Rating: PG

Characters/Pairings: Ichigo, Rukia, ichigo/rukia

* * *

It had been one of those days. The kind of days where you wished that you could just go home, and erase the memories from that day from your mind. He went to the bathroom to brush his teeth, only to find that someone had used all the toothpaste in the house. 

All of it.

It all went downhill from there, but he'd rather not think about it. As soon as the last school bell rang, he was out of sight, out of mind. The temperature being over thirty-seven degrees¹ outside didn't help his mood improve at all. When he opened the doorknob of his bedroom all he wanted to do was get out of his uniform and strip down to the least amount of clothes as he could.

And he did just that. He slipped off his jacket and shirt in one swift movement, ready to rid himself of a shirt. He was in the process of changing out of his uniform slacks for sweat pants when he spotted a bottle on his desk. There was condensation forming on the outside. Just looking at it made him feel five degrees cooler.

Figuring it didn't belong to anyone, he took a sip out of it.

"Ah," he gave a satisfied sigh.

Refreshing. Exactly what he needed on this hot summer's day.

He heard the door open quietly, and then slam shut.

"Idiot!" a shriek exploded into his eardrums.

She shot him a glare. He was surprised. He wasn't aware of her presence downstairs.

"Uh… this was yours?"

He could have sworn that her eyebrows were twitching violently.

"Ah! Ah! Owari! Owari! ²" he apologized impishly.

Ichigo usually wasn't the first of the two to initiate apologies, but he'd recently developed a sixth sense about Rukia. And judging by her attitude towards him so far today, it would be better for him to play it safe.

"Owari?!" she all but hollered. "Owari?!"

He could not help but stare helplessly at her. The hell was she freaking out about? He knew she was possessive with her Chappy items, especially that damned ginkongan, but now a water bottle?

"You! You infest _germs_ all over the mouth of my bottle, and all you can say is, 'Owari'?" she jabbed him accusingly in the chest.

"W-what? Wait! Germs?" he was outraged.

He had had just about _enough_ of this day! He was ready to plop into bed and have himself a nice 15 hours worth of sleep, shutting out the rest of the world. The rest of the world included Rukia.

"Yes. Germs. Yesterday in health class, the teacher said that germs, sickness, and bacteria are spread though sharing water, soda, and such," she offered as an explanation to her outlandish behavior.

He slapped his forehead, clearly exasperated. Then, he gave an evil sort of smirk.

"You didn't seem to care about _germs_ when we were kissing last night," he prodded; smirk still planted on his lips.

He saw a blush grace her features. She then, crossed her arms.

Begrudgingly she added, "Well, it's not like Kon used all the toothpaste in the bathroom upstairs," with a sneer of her own.

Ichigo decided that he shouldn't erase today completely, he learned something new today: If he wanted someone to puncture his ego, all he had to do was take a sip of Rukia's water bottle.

* * *

1: In almost every other country, they use Celsius, not Fahrenheit. So, over thirty-seven degrees Celsius is pretty hot. -.-;

2: Owari: sorry


	5. Defiled

Title: Defiled  
Torture: The Rack  
Author: windxalchemist

Characters/Pairings: Rukia, Ichigo, Byakuya, Renji, ichigo/rukia  
Warnings: PG-13. Mentions of sex.

--------

Kuchiki Byakuya did not approve.

Not at all.

"Abarai," the Head of the Kuchiki House started, "I don't approve of Rukia _training_ with that human boy." He emphasized the word 'training' as if it were poison.

The Sixth Squad Fukutaichou raised his brows, "Kuchiki Taichou, you should endow your younger sister with more trust."

Of course, the red haired shinigmai knew better. No one had to _tell_ him what was going on after "training" each day. In fact, almost everyone in Soul Society knew. Of course, Kuchiki Byakuya was not everyone. Case in which, those "training" sessions began to pop up much more frequently these days.

Almost daily, quite frankly.

"Abarai," the Head of the Kuchiki House voiced his degruntlement once more, "I do believe I'll go check on their progress."

Renji's eyes widened in surprise. He wasn't expecting that. "Ah! Taichou! Kuchiki Taichou shouldn't burden himself with such tedious work. I uh, I'll do it for you, sir!" he offered at once.

"No. I shall go and monitor the human boy. You can stay here and wrap up that report," the elder shot down his offer.

"Hai, Taichou," he answered obediently.

He resigned himself against the matter. He'd tried, right? Even though Rukia and Ichigo would most probably chew off his ass for what was to happen. He'd tried.

--------

Kuchiki Taichou was making his way across the courtyard at a brisk pace. In quite short, he would have reached his destination:the practice field of the Gotei 13.

--------

The inside of the equipment was as normal as ever. One could hear shallow breathing and the crashing of equipment. That was to be expected, sparring with a partner wasn't exactly a stroll through the park. Usually, there would be the clamor of voices discussing their training that day, and possibly an enthusiastic voice gloating of their victory over the other.

There was, however, no such voices today. Of course, the fact that their mouths were glued together may have been partially responsible for that.

May have.

Partially.

Yes, indeed. A certain carrot to substitue shinigami was quite…attached to his ebony haired sparring partner.

Literally.

--------

The sixth squad taichou had been disgruntled to see that his adoptive sister's training had already ceased. When he heard crashing coming from the equipment room, he already knew that disaster would behold on the other side of that doorknob.

How right he was.

He just had no idea _how _right he was.

He regretted being correct.

Really regretted.

--------

There were three shinigami in the equipment room that blistering summer's noon. Two were bent on their knees, unable to look up at the man standing in front of them. In their current state, they could not even make up an excuse in their defense. Rukia nervously tried to tie her white obi, failing miserably. She was much better off. Ichigo was very…devoid of clothing around his abdomen.

They continued to shy away from their superior's glare, looking at anything: the walls, the floor, the ceiling, each other. Hell, even looking at the knocked over rack of placement mats where they were allegedly caught red handed was better. Anything was better than meeting _his_ eyes.

"Nii-sama, I-"

"Human," the man spoke, cutting off his younger sister.

It was like hearing the voice of the Devil himself.

Ichigo hesitantly looked up.

Very hesitantly.

"What were you doing?" the man questioned with scrutiny etched into his voice.

Ichigo gave a confused sort of frown.

"Well?"

Let the interrogation begin.

"I was…" he started to say, "we were-" he gave a sigh, brushing a trembling hand through his sweat soaked hair. "Rukia and I were in the middle of sex."

"And who, Human, gave you the right to come here into Soul Society and _defile_ my sister?"

He was at a loss of words. There were many many words that he could have chosen, and he chose the word _defile_?! There were much more delicated words at hand.

Kuchiki Byakuya wasn't known to be delicate.

"I wasn't defil-"

"Who?" the elder shinigami reiterated. The man did not have to yell to intimidate one into lunacy.

"No one," he yielded, "especially not without permission from you."

Ichigo looked away again. He'd be damned if he ever admit it out loud, but Byakuya had one intimidating glare. His glare sent an all too obvious message: "Apologize. Go away. Never come back. Or I'll kill you with my bare hands." His eyes met Rukia's.

He yielded to the Taichou's wishes once more.

"Byakuya…-sa…ma," he paused, "excuse me for…" he fished for a delicate word. "Excuse me for…involving myself with your sister…without your permission."

Ichigo eyed the elder tentatively. "It won't happen again," he added as a final touch, hoping to satisfy the man.

Byakuya narrowed his eyes at the strawberry dangerously, before looking away. "Very well, then," he dismissed the two of them, as he started to make his way to the double doors. He halted, "Next time, I won't be as forgiving," he threatened.

The Sixth Squad Taichou took one last look around the equipment room. He noted the terrible mess made of the rack with the placement mats. It was completely knocked over, and the mats were arranged in a strange fashion around it. He couldn't help but cock a brow in pure bemusement.

There wouldn't be any training sessions for a long time now.

A long, long time.


	6. Silent Treatment

Title: Understanding  
Torture: Silent Treatment

Word Count: 1,614

Characters/Pairings: Ichigo, Rukia, ichigo/rukia  
Warnings: PG-13. Language.  
Note: Sequel to my "Guilt Trip" entry. My first chapter.

A/N: I'm so sorry about the late update. I just updated on my livejournal then forgot to do anything with my account. Aghh. Bad Windy-chan, bad Windy-chan, ne? Well. I hope you enjoy the three chapter update from here. :D

* * *

It was a rainy day. She had no umbrella.

It was raining.

Rukia sat on the steps of the school building, under the protection of the overhang. Still, that didn't prevent her legs from being sabotaged by the constant splashes on the pavement. She huffed impatiently, waiting. She was never good at waiting. Either it came or went, yes or no; nothing in between.

When she spotted the strawberry coming out of the vast double doors, she immediately stood up, ready to berate his tardiness. Until he walked right past her, head hung low, like there was just too much effort in carrying it.

"Ichigo!" she all but shouted, as she reached the bottom of the steps.

He looked up, mildly surprised, with a dead sort of dull luster in his eyes.

"Ah, Rukia," he nodded, acknowledging her presence.

A frown marring her features, she walked up to him, piercing his eyes with an intense glare. She wanted to tell him, "Stop it. Stop feeling guilty." She wanted to snap him out of it, but she didn't. She merely shut her mouth, and pretended that there was nothing the matter.

"Let's go."

She sharply took in a breath, before replying, "Yeah."

She heard him open the umbrella with a small "pop," and they walked along.

It had become a second nature matter for Ichigo to wrap his arm around her wrist when walking under an umbrella together. However, today's walk home was void of any physical contact, as had the past two days been.

There was silence in the atmosphere as they stepped into the puddle of rain. It was an awkward silence, gnawing away at her sanity. She wrapped her fingers around his, hoping to break the spell.

He flinched.

Then, he wriggled his fingers out of hers, saying, "We're home."

Her hand fell limply to her side. "Y-yes. Home."

As they entered, neither said a ward, just walked up the stairwell to his room.

* * *

She was worried. Ever since _it_ happened, all he ever said to her was, "I'm sorry," or an, "Ah," of agreement. There was a dead look in his eyes, and he didn't so much as touch her. Their bunking had even been diminished down to her returning to Karin and Yuzu's room. He had become cold towards her.

All because of the Hollow.

These thoughts were racing through her mind. She was fine now, why was he doing this to her? And more importantly, to himself. She wanted to tell him, yell at him screech into his ear, asking him: "I know why. Stop! Get over it!" She wanted to, so badly, and it ate away at her very soul.

"Why are you doing this?" she blurted out suddenly, putting down her marker.

She watched him as his body jolted, before he glanced up. His eyes didn't meet hers.

"Doing what?" he answered nonchalantly, facing his books once more.

"Don't bullshit me!" she snapped icily. "You know damn well what I'm talking about!"

"No." he put up that single word to his lame self defense.

"Liar. Stop lying!" she accused in a commanding tone.

He lost it.

"Look, there's nothing the matter! I'm fine! There's nothing wrong with me!" he stood up from his desk, gripping onto her wrist.

She winced in pain. The rejection: it hurt.

"I'm-I'm, just. I'm not worth it! So stop worrying!"

Then, a look of utter and complete guilt took old of his eyes as he suddenly let go of her wrist. His face was tarnished with a look of pure disgust. Disgust of what?

Himself.

"I'm sorry," he apologized instantly.

At that moment, in his stance, there was an air of pure anguish, it was nearly tangible. His face hung low, hiding underneath his shock of bright hair, and his body was wilted.

"You…you should get away from me. I'm not safe to be around. I-I might hurt you again," he warned her quietly.

And the worst part was that she obeyed. He heard her get up from his bed, and step across his room to the door, which closed with a violent slam. The pain slapped him in the stomach, rendering him lifeless.

He buried his face into his hands before slamming onto his bed. He heard something crinkle under his head. He took it out from under him. It was Rukia's sketch book, and there were three words written in black marker: "Speak to me."

Fuck.

He had hurt her again.

-------

It was still raining.

Even as nightfall came, the sky was relentless in its constant rainfall. She huddled her knees to her body, wrapping her arms around them. She buried her face into her arms.

The racing in her mind hadn't stopped. It continued to corrode. It was all better now. She was alive and well. She didn't give a second thought about it, yet he held onto it. Was it her fault? For allowing his life to intertwine with hers those many years ago? That Hollow within…was that the product of her irresponsible carelessness? And his pain…it was because of her?

"Should I leave?" she asked no one in particular. Who was going to listen to her out here? "Leave and never come back. I should stop making him hurt so much. I should just say goodbye forever and leave?"

"Don't."

She was taken aback. She hadn't heard him open the patio door.

"Leave… I mean."

When there was no response, she heard him growl in frustration, sitting down next to her. Rukia looked up at him sideways.

"Why? You don't seem to care whether or not I'm here," she scornfully remarked.

He pursed his lips, injured at her sharp statement. He had deserved that.

Rukia stood up. "If you don't have anything to say, then I'm leaving."

He grabbed her hand, failing to meet her gaze.

"I'm sorry," he repeated.

"For what?! I keep hearing: 'I'm sorry. I'm sorry' But for what, exactly?" she snapped. "Are you sorry because you don't me to her be here? Or because of the Hollow that lives in side you that you had no choice about? Or because of some screwed up reason that doesn't make any sense at all?" her breathing had become heavy.

She watched with contempt in her eyes as he rose also.

"Because I nearly killed you!" he lambasted, "I nearly killed you with these-these hands! If I wasn't so weak, hadn't I depended on the Hollow for power, and then you wouldn't have gotten hurt!"

He was scared. Of himself, that he might hurt Rukia, of what she truly felt. That she really did blame him. That on the inside, she felt it was his fault. That on the inside, she blamed him, loathed him.

"I'm afraid," he whispered, dropping her hand, "afraid that if I touch you, I'll hurt you again. And this time around, you'd hold it against me, this time, you wouldn't say, it's okay, and you would leave. So I selfishly tried to keep you with me.

"But at the same time, I was scared that I'd hurt you, and you being in pain. I…so I acted coldly, trying to keep you away from me and monster living inside."

She wore an expression of thorough befuddlement.

He gave another cry of aggravation, words were never his thing. He couldn't make a romantic or eloquent speech about his jacked up emotions.

"It doesn't make sense to me either! How I'm contradicting myself. How I want you beside me, yet I don't want you to get hurt, so I push you away. And in the end, I just end up hurting myself. I wanted you to blame, yet at the same time, I flinched at the thought, and just wanted you to forgive me. On the inside, I was wasting away. Blaming myself, and believing that you secretly hated me for it." He paused. After talking for the past five minutes, he felt his self consciousness bloat, and the heat growing in his face.

"I hated myself for hurting you, even while loving you, everything I did, hurt you. So, if you want to go…then go. You don't have to forgive me, or stay beside me, you can leave," he offered, looking away.

She flung herself at him, and his breath hitched. Rukia crushed her lips against his; grabbing hold of his now rain soaked face, nails digging into the flesh on his body. He, in turn, held her, kissed her. He kissed her senseless, like he was dying, as if this was his last chance to ever again taste the flavor of her sweet mouth against his. He pressed her lips against his with even more force, hands entangled into her drenched locks. He grabbed her face, her skin, her clothes, anything, to make sure that indeed, he was not dreaming. That this was real. That this goddess of death was in his arms. And she continued to hold onto him, like he was her last lifeline.

It dawned on him.

She had already forgiven him. Even when he had committed such transgressions, she willingly forgave him, said: "It's okay, Ichigo," and took him in. She had not only picked up his sins, his guilt, his hurt, and threw them away at the ends of the earth, but she had covered them up, and forgot about them. All to forgive him. To heal him of his guilt ridden, broken form.

He understood.

It was okay to have bumps along the way.

He understood.

It would take more than limitations to break them.

He understood.

No matter what, she would love him all the same.

As they kissed each other, in the rain.

* * *

Not my best work. Not at all. I spent so much time on it, but I feel like it wasn't that good. I think all my creative juices were sucked out on the first five ones. And it hasn't even been a week yet. That's bad news. But, I feel that practicing for consistent writing like this is good for my brain…I hope.

Let me know how I did.


	7. Domination

Title: So Much for Being a Man.

Author: windxalchemist

Rating: PG [Borderline of PG-13

Characters/Pairings: Ichigo, Rukia, Ichigo/rukia

Word Count: 569

Warnings: None, really. The rating should give you enough information.

* * *

Patience was never her thing.

She hated the idea of having to wait for something that she wanted. Of course, she knew that comparing a few hours to her century's worth lifespan was ridiculous. But patience was never her thing.

That particular Saturday afternoon, they were sitting in the study. He, bent over his papers, pen tapping as its owner contemplated the information put out in front of him. The crease in his brow deepened in thought.

She would _will_ herself to burn a super huge hole into that persistent orange head of his.

Of course, it turned out, sheer will power wouldn't work.

Not on a Kurosaki anyways.

After another few moments' silence, she narrowed her eyes once more. It was almost like being in a staring contest with a shock of hair.

And she was losing miserably.

"Ichigo," she finally hissed, almost as if trying to tell him a secret. When he doesn't answer, she tries again, "Ichigo!"

"What?" he responds irritably.

"How much longer are you going to take?" she asks, unfazed by his snappish behavior. "I'm bored."

There was another sound of tapping before he answered, "An hour or two? I don't know, damn it, Rukia! I'm studying for a test tomorrow!"

"Oh."

It wasn't an injured sort of "oh." It was more like the plotting type of "oh." The kind that Rukia used to throw him off into thinking that she'd finally leave him alone.

He should know better by now.

She rose from her chair and noiselessly made her way to his desk. She wrapped her arms around his neck.

"An exam is more important to you than me, Ichigo? I'm hurt," she teases, almost too lightheartedly.

The crease grows deeper. She could see the mental cogs working behind that scowl. _Ignore her. Ignore her. Will yourself into ignoring her. Ignore._

Even as her scent invaded his nostrils, making concentration somewhat more difficult of a task.

"I just need to look over this. An hour, okay? This is important." his resolve was growing thin.

"Humph," she gave a dramatic huff, "very well."

Then, as soon as he thinks that she's about to relent, she licks the shell of his ear.

His _ear_.

Damn it all.

_That_ had him sitting up straight. Rigidly, painfully straight. She gave a quiet, melodic sort of laugh. He was the same in his twenties as he was in his teens. Very much the same.

The cogs behind his now more relaxed frown were running wildly. _No. Don't give into it. No. Resolve. Must. Not. Shatter. Be a man!_

She continued to provoke him, trailing kisses along his jaw, down his neck. The occasional open mouthed caress of her lips had him biting down on his tongue, as he felt the rough taste buds run against his sensitive flesh. She bit at his neck. His vision of the letters in front of him amassed into one huge jumble. She nipped at his ear lobe with her teeth, barely whispering into his ear, "Important enough for you?"

So much for being a man.

He suddenly stood up, lifting her small figure, as he made his way to their bed. He pressed his lips to hers in a deep, hungry kiss.

When they broke apart, she breathily asked, "Exams?"

"Screw it," he answered, his mind fixated on getting to their bedroom.

"Gladly," she agreed, hot breath sending shivers up his spine.

* * *

OOC much? I think so. 


	8. Prologue: Brainwashing

Title: Prologue  
Torture: Brainwashing  
Author: windxalchemist

Characters/Pairings: Rukia, Ichigo, ichigo/rukia  
Warnings: PG thanks Ichigo's colorful language.

* * *

_Prologue:_

"Ichigo. Ichigo," a voice hissed impatiently in the darkness.

The boy didn't react to the voice at all, just gave a half asleep "Hnn. Five more minutes," before pulling a pillow over his head.

"Ichigo!" the voice persisted, louder this time, "I'm thirsty!"

"Argh! Damn you, Rukia! Get your own water!" the boy muttered, clearly annoyed with the feminine voice that insisted its thirst.

He groggily untangled himself from the bedding, and made his way through the silent house, through the darkness, into the kitchen.

After crashing into multiple walls to fulfill his quest, the boy trudged his way back to his room. He opened the closet door, grumbling to no one in particular in his sluggish state.

'Rukia? Damn it, Rukia. Take the damn water!" he seethed, still heavy-eyed.

There was no voice to reward the boy for brining back its water. He opened his eyes in shock. The closet. It was…empty.

As it had been for the past two months.

Suddenly, it came crashing back down on him. Shinigami, Soul Society, arrancar, Aizen, Shiba Kaien, Hueco Mendo, Vaizard, Shinji, the war, Rukia.

Rukia.

This voice, this Rukia, she had left him again.

Right, because he was a mere mortal, and she, a shinigami. Their lives weren't supposed to cross over at all. Even the short amount of time that they had spent together wasn't allowed. They had only depended on him because of the dire situation in which he could lend them power. They weren't supposed to meet.

_"You need to lead a normal life, "she had asserted, when he asked her to stay this time around._

_"Shut up! As if I could do that __**now**__," the redhead shot back angrily. "Besides, normality is overrated."_

The said redhead stands there for what seems like an eternity. The thoughts pulsating through his head, they were somewhat like a routine now. A way to remind himself, "Hey, you have a normal life now. Be happy." Alas, the pain failed to subside.

"Ichigo, you should go to sleep." The voice was back, and so was she.

For a split second, he really believed that it was her, sitting on the untouched bed spreads in his closet. She looked so serene, so familiar, in her normal change of Yuzu's pajamas, just peering up at him, bossing him around.

Just like she used to.

"Pfft. You're one to talk. Asking me for water at three in the morning," he retorted, secretly overflowing with joy at her presence.

"Ah! Water! Thank you!" she nearly singsonged as she scooped the glass from the now fully awake boy. She gulped down the water hastily.

He looked at the windows, making sure that they were locked tightly, the door also. He didn't want her to leave again. This time, he'd do a better job of keeping her here. He would handcuff her, put duct tape around her mouth, and tie her up, just to keep her in his closet.

"Rukia, look, I-" but when he looked back at the girl, she was no longer there. It was just him, with a full glass of water, talking to an empty closet.

He nearly dropped the water in his hand. Until he remembered, again. Rukia. Was. Not. Here. She was in Soul Society, and he in the mortal world, where mortal boys like him belonged.

The boy cursed and berated himself for actually allowing himself the hope of her being here, for believing, for wanting. Had he gone and allowed himself to become so pitiful as to hear voices?

He was delusional. That was it. He had driven himself into insanity, and become one of those crazed psychopaths who hallucinated and talked to thin air. He had little doubt that he might wake up to find himself bound in a straitjacket in a padded room. Yes, the Strawberry was definitely considering taking narcotics before he went to sleep. Then, maybe he would be able to get a peaceful night's rest.

The boy ran his calloused hand through his spiked hair, giving a wistful sigh, before returning to his bed, facing _away_ from the closet. After another minute of grumbling, he decided there was no way in hell that he'd get any sleep tonight. He wouldn't allow himself the luxury of sleep, because even sleep could turn and betray him. It would ensnare him, his mind, and his senses. It could manipulate his memories, thoughts, and wants into a phantasmagoria which he would eventually awake from. And the emptiness in his chest would grow even worse. Maybe the Hollow within the boy was finally taking over? Because he was pretty sure that there was a hole in his chest where his heart was supposed to be. He didn't know, but as he willed himself to not fall asleep, he watched the closet. Hoping that maybe, this was some bad nightmare, and that he wasn't really delusional at all. Maybe, just maybe, the girl would be real.

He exhaled loudly.

It was the third time this week.

* * *

I think I chose a cliché theme? But, I'm planning on turning this into a full chaptered story. I haven't planned out all the chapters yet, but it's going to be a sort of way for me to try out different styles of writing, because my writing style kind of makes me gag. It's so plain and boring. So I want to try out something different for a change, but with the 12 Days contest, I was pressed for time, so I had postponed that thought. Until today, while I was writing, this little prologue had suddenly become a whopping fifteen page load (which was only half way done). So, I decided to enter this into the 12 Days, and I could use this opportunity to try out different writing styles. Tell me if this sounds like a waste of time. --;;

Thanks for reading:D


	9. Humiliation

Title: Lollipop

Author: windxalchemist

Word Count: 653

Rating: PG-13

Characters/Pairings: Ichigo, Rukia, Ichigo/rukia

Basically set up in the future, assuming that Rukia and Ichigo do have a future. But after reading greenamberjade's eternal separation fics, my mind is slowly deteriorating of all happiness with them. T-T

* * *

He sighed. Scratch that. The sound that made its way out of his throat could only be the bastard of a moan and a growl. He covered his eyes and buried his head in his arms in deep frustration. He could feel her eyes, staring at him in curiosity. Ichigo looked up at her. Her eyes were open wide, a perfect, black brow arched quizzically.

Half of his face was still buried in his arms. Just his eyes peered up…at her, and that God damned lollipop in her mouth.

"Ru-" he paused, "Rukia, what flavor is that?" he questioned in a strained voice.

Perhaps talking would make it disappear.

"Vanilla. Why? Do you want a taste?" she asked.

_Yes…of your mouth._

"Uhh."

_Okay. So, talking didn't help. Great to know, eh Kurosaki?_

He couldn't fucking stop staring at her mouth, damn it all!

"No," he answered in a half strangled voice.

"Are you sure? It tastes really good." She was taunting him.Even with those innoncent eyes staring back at him, deep down inside she was taunting him, maybe not on purpose, no. Actually, she was oblivious to his err, suppression of…wants. But it didn't stop it from working all the same.

Her lips. They were begging for him to come claim them. They were there, enclosed around that lollipop. Slowly melting it, as was his resolve.

_Come on, Kurosaki, keep it together, man! Just walk out of the room. Walk out of the room, downstairs, get water. __**Cold**__ water. Get away before you make an idiot out of yourself._

Right. His conscience was right. He would not think about her lips. He would not think about grabbing her face and kissing her senseless. He would not look at her. That's all he had to do, right? Mind over matter.

Needless to say, it didn't work. She was sitting two feet away from him, damn it all. As if he could stop thinking about her.

"Ichigo, stop being lazy," she prodded, not looking up from her manga, probably ready to start berating about sleeping at his desk.

He stole a glance at her; peeking through his arms, one eye only. It was still there. She was licking that lollipop. He lips, were mere feet away. They were burning red. They were there, close, dangerously close. One swift movement, and his lips would be against hers.

"Ichigo." At this point, he could not make heads or tails of her words, he was just staring at her lips.

Wasn't puberty supposed to occur _during_ your teenage years? Not in your early twenties? Weren't they supposed to be gone by now? At least, that's what happened in normal teenage boys' lives. Oh no, not him. He got to hop around between different realms between the living and the dead with his big ass zanpakutou, getting his ass kicked, and killing various dead beings. Figures that puberty would hit somewhere after all that. He attempted to bury his frustration and just put his head down one more.

She couldn't help but stare in wonder at what was bothering him. He wasn't listening to anything that she was saying. He was staring piercingly at something, before he had groaned once more, putting his head down. He was making an absolute spectacle out of himself. What in the world could he be so worked up over?

Her lips.

Bingo.

"Ichigo," she said slowly, changing her tone all at once.

She got up and noiselessly inched towards him. She couldn't be more amused at his aggravation.

She leaned into his ear, "You really don't want a taste?"

He immediately sat up. Before he knew what was happening, he felt a pair of lips caressing the edge of his own lips. That was when he spontaneously yanked the lollipop out of her hand, and crushed his mouths against hers; claiming them as his.

And she was right, vanilla really did taste good.

* * *

I didn't make that great use of this theme. I think I'm really burned out this time. This was something that I dug out my hard drive while I was looking back at my work. It was definitely OOC with a good dash of cringing while I reread it. Wptjawijteijt; I'm planning on doing a chaptered fic soon, so I guess I was more concentrated on that than this one. I'm not really completely satisfied with this. It's irking me more and more now that I think about it. I edited it out to fit my writing style now. It's amazing how in one year your writing style can change so much. 


	10. BullyingIntimidation

Title: Don't I Scare You?

Author: windxalchemist

Characters/Pairings: Ichigo, Rukia, Shinji, Ichigo/Rukia.

Rating: PG

Word Count: 1,906

Warnings: Gives away a major subplot for the Arrancar arc. If you haven't read/watched up to there, then don't read this. Lovely language from everyone's favorite Kurosaki-kun. :D

---

She had insisted, right?

He never volunteered.

He didn't _want_ to show her this side of him.

Never.

"I trust you," she insisted.

The thing was, he didn't want her to. He didn't want to end up abusing that trust. What if he…hurt her again? That last time was enough, enough to make him train harder. It was enough to make him force his bloody Hollow into submission.

---

_"Fifty-six minutes." Kensei stopped the timer._

_Even with all that work, that's all the time he could afford. He didn't want more, he didn't want to need more. That power, it was only for the direst situations in which his enemies were too overwhelming. _

---

"We need you in the war this winter, Ichigo. Are you prepared?" she had asked him.

Prepared for what? To not have the slightest bit of satisfaction in protecting her? Was she _trying_ to torture him?

Most likely.

She had pressured him into it.

---

_"Show me," she had demanded that night after dinner._

_"Show you what?" he replied, feigning stupidity._

_"Don't play dumb with me!" she could read him like a book._

_He gave a sigh. "Rukia, there's a reason why I went through shit to never show you. I'm…a monster."_

_She narrowed her eyes to a dangerous level at his last statement, before rolling over onto her back. She hissed in pain, grabbing onto her torso. Hueco Mendo had done her much damage. He nearly winced in pain along with her. He felt the guilt creeping up his spine once more at the remembrance of his sins._

_"Don't you trust yourself to keep dominance over the Hollow?" she challenged, her eyes never straying from the manga within her fingers._

_"I-uh," he stopped, uncertain, "I don't want to do that again." He pointed at the rolls of bandages on her desk._

_"You won't. And that wasn't your fault anyways. Besides, if you don't want to hurt me, you won't. You said that you lengthened your endurance time, right?" she spoke briskly, not leaving him much of a choice to decline anyways._

_"Well, yeah, but-"_

_"Then it's settled. Show me. Whenever you'd like," she arranged._

---

He'd no choice.

"Ichigo," Shinji's voice cut into his reality.

"Hn."

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked.

They both knew what he was talking about.

---

_"Orihime-chan, Chad, glasses, the other shinigami. Did you really think that they were your true comrades?"_

_Ichigo stared, dumbfounded at this cocky whatever-the-fuck Vaizard thing that he called himself._

_"That's bullshit. They can help you out for a little bit. But in the end, your power will end up overwhelming you, and destroying, you, your friends, and everything that you know."_

_"Shut up."_

_"It's quite true, Ichigo."_

---

"No," he answered, standing up. "Let's go."

"We don't need to watch after you, do we?" the blonde Vaizard asked.

"You _do_," the Strawberry corrected.

---

_"Screw it, Ichigo! You don't need us to monitor you! You have that damn thing under control!" Hiyori snapped, when she overheard his conversation with Shinji._

_"It's true," the masked boy assured, landing another blow on Zangetsu._

_"Yes, I do! You don't get it! It's… ARGH! The HELL, Hiyori?!" he abruptly interrupted himself._

_"Complicated?" Shinji prompted._

_"Exactly," he agreed for once, mind half immersed in the spar at hand._

_"Sounds to me like you're just afraid of her, not yourself." The Vaizard spoke in a knowing tone._

_"Bottom line, dickhead, we're not babysitting you and your Shinigami girlfriend, okay?" Hiyori cut in once again._

---

"Nope." With that, the Vaizard boy ran up the stairs that led into the sky.

He sighed, admitting defeat. What was he so afraid of? He was the king. King! The rider, his _master_.

_'Of course you are idiot. You know that you have him under control.'_

Shinji was right. She was his greatest fear. He was afraid of her, her rejection. It would hurt, more than anyone else's, more than anything in this world. But if she wasn't willing to accept this side of him, then he needed to know. He needed to be honest with her, he couldn't lie to her.

"Oi," her voice greeted, behind him.

He didn't turn around. "Oi," he greeted back.

"You're ready." It sounded more like a statement rather than a question.

"Ah," he nodded.

In truth, he didn't know how to go about doing it. Was it supposed to be like some ritual? Or was it supposed to be like an informal, "Yo"? It wasn't like he could just go, " Ta-da! This is my true form, Rukia! I'm really this weird masked creature, with the weird voice! Mhm. That's all good. Let's go home now!"

He didn't want to show her.

He gave a morose sigh before facing Rukia once more. He needed to be fair to her, and let her see all of him, even the ugly parts. The Strawberry screwed his eyes shut, his hand swiped across his face, releasing the Hollow within. He clenched his fist, nails digging into his palm, looking down at the ground.

He prepared himself for the cold refusal. Instead, he felt her hand running down the side of his face. He opened one eye.

What was she doing?

He blinked in shock. He eyed her fingers, tracing his mask in wonder.

"Rukia!" he exclaimed, nearly cringing, just now noticing how disturbing his hollowed voice sounded.

"What?" she pierced his eyes with a look of utmost casualness.

"Don't I…scare you?" he asked, incredulous at her calm, collected face.

"Should I be?" she inquired, looking confused.

"Yes! You-you…you! You should be terrified of me! My mask, and my eyes!" he sputtered, lack of self-control to do more. "This…creature that I am. You should be scared shitless!"

She gave him a dumbfounded look, then smiled. "Well, you don't look like you're going to go do charity work sometime soon, but I trust you."

There it was again. That trust.

She peered up at him, still looking confused at his reaction. He looked into her eyes, searching for the answer.

And they said everything. Everything that words could not even begin to scratch the surface with. She trusted him, with her life and her soul, even though he held the appearance of this monster. She knew now, and she was there, standing in front of him, touching him, loving him, as though if he wasn't anything but a stuffed animal. Her trust, her love, it transcended all words known to man, and he would do anything to keep it that way.

Anything and everything.

---

I think I did okay with this. Ending's kind of abrupt? But I wanted to write a fic about what Rukia's reaction would be when she saw Ichigo's Hollow, because so far, only a few people have actually seen it. Inoue cough inconsistentcharacter

I haven't updated on Our Red Strings of Fate yet, but I'm still writing the official first chapter, so bear with me, as I tie down the last two chapters of the 12 Days of Ichigo Torture challenge of livejournal. Thank you for reading. :D


	11. Deprivation

Title: We're really alive…

Author: windxalchemist

Word Count: 882

Characters/Pairings: Ichigo, Rukia, Grimmjow (indirectly), Inoue (indirectly), Ishida (indirectly), ichigo/rukia.

Rating: PG. Borderline of PG-13.

Warnings: Minor blood, talk of death, surprisingly minor language today.

A/N: So, while thinking of a story for today's theme, I sat there, and sat there, and sat there, until finally. I couldn't think. So, I went to check my e-mail. And I was sifting through, when I landed on a certain e-mail about this wonderful fic for Day1: Guilt Trip, that bakabokken, on Livejournal wrote. It was so inspirational! I decided, SEQUEL IT IS! And with their permission, here is my humble attempt at a sequel.

---

After deciding that he'd fight this Grimmjow character to the death, everything had become so much easier. Every blow that he dealt had that much more power, and every spill of blood had him hoping that much more. Hoping that he'd see _her_ again.

Hope.

He was being suicidal, clearly. There was such an adrenaline rush, knowing that he would soon be free. He could _be_ with _her_. The look of panic on the Sixth Espada's face showed that the end was indeed near.

The end, for whom?

The masked Strawberry thrust his zanpakutou through the Espada's jaw, crushing the fragment of the hollow mask, and his skull. At the same time, his abdomen was sliced with the cold blade of his enemy. He could taste the metallic tang of the blood flowing without restriction, up his throat, clogging his larynx.

"This…is _my_ victory," he managed to choke out, spitting blood in the process.

Ichigo leaned against his bankai for support, propping himself on the black handle of Zangetsu. He pulled out the blade in his stomach, before crumbling onto the floor, drowning in his own red life water.

Somewhere in the distance her heard a faint shriek. "Kurosaki-kun!"

Rukia?

No. Rukia didn't call him Kurosaki-kun. She'd probably slap him, even in his bloody state, then scream at him about dying before her. There wouldn't be any tears, not when his blood was spilled. Her kidou would come before any tears dared to shed themselves.

Those were the last thought his brain could register until the darkness swarmed in on his consciousness.

---

She felt considerably well for having been impaled not but a mere 40 hours ago, but thanks to Ishida and her kidou, she was much better. It looked as if there weren't injuries there at all. But Rukia was more worried about the boy who lay on the ground before her. While he looked well, his eyes refused to open.

She skimmed her fingers along his, ever so daintily, and then held onto his hand, running her thumb along his palm, ever so slightly.

This was the second night of her silent vigil over the carrot top. Why no one had come to ambush them was a wonder, but she was rather relieved. She'd rather not have to try and kill off more arrancar when Ichigo was in his current state.

When it looked as though if the boy wouldn't awake, she spoke to Ishida, nearby. "Ishida, could you wake me up if someone comes?" she requested.

"Ah, Kuchiki-san," the Quincy agreed.

She closed her eyes, lying next to him, still grabbing onto his hand. She allowed her senses to slip away as she indulged into the luxury of slumber.

---

Ichigo's eyelids flapped open. Where was he? He tried to sit up, until the pain riddled into his abdomen, stopping all movement. He lay back down on the ground, and winced in distaste of the headache that throbbed nonstop. Then, his eyes shot open once more, remembering her.

"Rukia!" he nearly screamed at the top of his lungs.

To her cue, the ebony locked woman sat up, eyes opened wide. When she saw him, she closed her eyes in amusement.

"Ichigo," she whispered, voice soft.

"Yo," he quietly greeted.

"Yo yourself, dumbass," she retorted, smiling.

They stayed there for a long while, just looking at each other, convincing each other that they were indeed real. Ironing the memories of each other into their minds, should it be but a dream. Their hands were gripped together, not letting go, not even for a second.

"Are we in heaven?" Ichigo asked, breaking the silence.

"No," the goddess answered, frowning.

The Strawberry's eyes widened in shock.

"Oh shit! We're in Hell, aren't we?!" he exclaimed.

"No," she began slowly.

Before she even had a chance to explain, he started to jump to conclusions, flipping out. "Of course. If it were Hell, you wouldn't be here. Then what are you doing here?!"

"Ichigo-"

"Are you allowed to visit down into Hell?"

"Ichigo-"

"Or are you alive, and just taking me to the Gates of Hell?"

"Ichigo! You're not dead, and you're certainly not in Hell. _We're_ not dead. We're very much alive."

He blinked in complete and utter surprise.

"Alive, you stupid bastard! Don't you get it? Alive! You can't selfishly die, claiming to protect someone that's important to you! That's a retarded excuse and the easy way out! Don't you _**dare**_ go and die on me by yourself, Kurosaki Ichigo! I won't let you! Okay? Get that through that thick skull of yours the next time you recklessly run out onto the battlefield!" she blared, fists thrashing against his chest in anger.

He let his eyelids close, a smile making its way across his face. He grabbed her hand to stop the beating.

The Vaizard boy stared up at the Shinigami woman before speaking. "Alive?"

"Alive," she confirmed.

"Alive," he sighed, reassured.

They were beaten, broken, battered, and crushed, but not dead. Even with the dried blood caked underneath their nails as evidence to their toils, evidence that they had gone through hell and back to live, together.

"We're really alive, huh?" he queried, a moment later.

"Yeah. We really are."

_We._

He gave an overdue exhale.

He could finally breathe again.

---

Many thanks to readers. One more of these left:D

Thank you bakabokken!


	12. Bondage

Title: Sixth Squad.

Author: windxalchemist

Rating: PG.

Word Count: 575

Characters/Pairings: Ichigo, Byakuya, ichiruki

Warnings: Language, spoilers if you're not past the SS arc.

Note: Okay, so, basically, my idea for this fic is that Ichigo has officially died, and his soul has been purified from his Hollow through the whole konsoh/breaking hollow mask ordeal. So, now, he's a normal soul, who went through the Academy, and he's an official shinigami.

---

Many knew the saying: "Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer."

Kuchiki Byakuya, however, gave a whole new meaning to that phrase. Ichigo suspected that the sixth squad captain's somewhat twisted version of the phrase went like this: "Keep your friends close, your enemies closer, and the slimy bastards who have sex with your younger sister right under your fucking nose."

Yes, Ichigo had not a doubt in the world to believe that that's what Kuchiki Byakuya thought. Maybe that's why the Head of the Kuchiki Household had placed the Strawberry in third seat on the sixth squad.

Maybe.

Honestly, the boy hadn't even asked to be in the Gotei 13 at all. He was content with just going through the Shinigami Academy; after all, he had more than enough time. He had nearly completed his required regimen and was set to graduate in the spring when suddenly a hell butterfly made its way to his classroom one day, immediately requesting his presence at the sixth squad office. He gave a puzzled leer at the teacher, before heading to his destination. It's not as if he had had a choice anyways.

As soon as he walked into the office, stomping past the scolding guards of the gates, he was ordered to sit.

"Sit."

"Excuse me?"

"Sit, I said. Are you deaf?"

Ichigo sat, highly discontented with the sixth squad captain. Before he'd even had a chance to start complaining to the raven-haired man, he spoke.

"Kurosaki Ichigo, I am hereby assigning you to the third seat of the Sixth Squad of the Gotei 13."

The shinigami boy squinted at the captain, scrutinizing his face, wondering if this was some sort of hoax that the blank man had unwittingly arranged, because it sure as hell wasn't funny. When he could see that there was indeed, no trace of humor lurking about his face, the boy leaned back.

"Sorry, I think I heard you wrong. Third seat, Sixth Squad?" Ichigo asked, making sure that his ears weren't failing him.

"I must ask you again, are you deaf? I just assigned you to the third seat of the Sixth Squad and you're continue to sit there, with no sort of gratitude at all," the Kuchiki snapped, leaning back also, rubbing his temple.

"Okay, making sure," the boy informally replied. Respect was never his strong point, especially not towards elders.

"You cannot refuse. It is an order. I am willing to bend rules to let you come sit at this spot. You and I both know that you are more than capable, and that your reiatsu is equal to that of a captain level."

Ichigo rather fuzzily recalled that from there on out there was much yelling from his side, as the sixth squad captain suppressed the urge to just knock the boy out unconscious. There was much talk of his impudence, which led to talk of Isshin, and there was some sort of rather one-sided banter about why he'd never join Byakuya's freakin' clan.

He'd forgotten that Byakuya was a Kuchiki.

He'd had horrible experiences with Kuchiki's.

He should have known better.

Most definitely.

Kurosaki Ichigo had not a doubt in the world that being inducted into the sixth squad was the equivalent to the beginnings of an involuntary servitude that would stretch until the grudge against him was somewhat soothed. And Ichigo knew, that the grudge would stretch out forever.

Until the end of time itself.

---

Okay. So, I have another story that I had originally planned for this. It was supposed to be in two parts, and kind of a darker mood. I'd written the first part, then scrapped it. I was so pissed off at my incompetence. But, the story is here, if you wish to read it. I'll post the sequel sometime tomorrow. I think that gives more of an ending to ichigo and rukia than this one did. God knows that I wanted to give them a sufficient ending, but I guess it couldn't be helped.


	13. Restriction:Alternative Endings Pt1

Title: Restriction One

Author: windxalchemist

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 1,378

Characters/Pairings: Ichigo, Rukia, Renji, Inoue, Gin, Aizen, ichigo/rukia.

Warnings: suicidal Ichigo, potty-mouthed shinigami/vaizard, talk of death, generally not a happy mood.

Note: I've become a little crazed with this current arrancar arc. I feel like I overdid it? I considered scrapping the whole thing and just writing a happy, fluffy piece, and feeling good inside. But I decided that I would do a long piece, two parts, and make it a somewhat happy ending for them in the end, because, honestly, I spent so much time and energy into this, I feel like it's a waste to scrap it. I'm sorry to say that I can't give Ichigo and overly sweet birthday present. It doesn't fit his personality anyways. He needs a bittersweet sort of ending. I hope this is okay. I'm not too sure about it.

Also, this is an alternative to the theme. I had originally scrapped it to make a different one. The previous chapter was so much happier than this, but this gives a more definitive ending. This is only the first part, so don't freak out when you get to the end, I'll post the sequel tomorrow. I promise. But, this was so dark, I hated to make it Ichigo's birthday present. T-T Anyways, enough talk, more post.

---

Bondage: -noun. 1. Slavery or involuntary servitude; serfdom.

---

Restriction One.

---

Hueco Mendo.

He would ensure that she'd get out of here safely. No matter what the costs. At all costs, he _had_ to save her. Even if it meant selfishly hurting others. He'd do it. Whatever it took.

"Are you sure that this is what you want?" the Fourth Espada came up next to him, facing the screen also.

Ichigo watched as _she_ left the gates of Hueco Mendo, looking pained, but nowhere near as hysterical as he'd be if he were in her position. Still, she screamed. Screeches that made his blood run cold could be heard on the speakers. He clenched his fist, fighting the urge to look away. This would be his last chance to see her. Even if she was screaming for him, he would soak in the last of her face before Renji yanked her away. As she was dragged along, she threw a fit, crying, screaming a scream that could rival that of a banshee.

"No," Ichigo replied truthfully. He knew that the Espada didn't really give a rat's ass about whether or not it was what he wanted. He was merely reiterating his earlier declaration.

---

"If you should ever find yourself betraying us, then I suggest that you ready yourself to become impaled upon a blade just as your shinigami trash-"

He punched him. A square punch to the jaw.

"Don't you _**ever**_ talk about her like that!"

The arrancar remained expressionless.

"Don't be so faithful to think that Aizen-sama won't kill you. He won't hesitate; he will."

---

"I see," the blank man said, before pacing off once more, leaving him to watch the screen alone.

"Renji! Renji! No! Let go of me, Renji! We have to go back! We have to go back! Ichigo! Ichigo! _ICHIGO_!"

Renji ignored her thrashing about, carrying the petite female back to safety.

Renji understood. He'd explained it to him.

---

"_I – I need you to take Rukia away. Run away, Renji," Ichigo had requested._

"_The fuck are you talking about?" the redhead demanded._

"_Aizen struck a deal with me. He said, I could stay here, and work under him, then he'd let you guys go," he explained._

_"Bastard! You aren't supposed to do that! We're supposed to come back alive!" the shinigami protested._

_"You are."_

_"Shut up! You know damn well what I mean!"_

_"Just. Renji! Take Rukia back. Back to where she'll be safe. To a place where she can't be harmed. Please."_

---

Renji understood. Much better than Rukia had anyways. Renji agreed. Maybe it was because he knew what Ichigo was trying to do: protect Rukia. Whatever it was, if Renji had had an angered reaction, Rukia's was an answer straight from Hell; pure untainted rage.

---

_"Aizen did WHAT?!" she shrieked, "You can't!"_

_"I already did," he interjected._

_"NO! You bastard! I can't believe you! You! You! You insolent __**ass**__! Aizen, he'll-he'll kill you! Kill you! Don't you even care?!" she screamed that banshee-like scream._

_"He said he'd let you go. What more can I possibly ask for?" the carrot top answered quietly._

_"No! We have to leave together! With Inoue!"_

_"He never intended to let her go."_

_"Has that ever stopped you before? We will take her back, Ichigo. You and me, we will go back, together!"_

_"No! Don't you get it, Rukia?! If you stay here, they'll kill you! Like that Aaroniero Alulueri, Shiba Kaien, whoever the fuck he was! He nearly killed you! Do you think that I'll pass up an offer for you to get out of here alive? If we all stay, we're all going to die here! A life for a life! Isn't that fair?" he raged._

_"It's not! A life for a life! It's not fair!"_

_"You'd say the same exact thing if you were in my position," he countered._

_She growled in anger, suppressing the urge to strangle the boy in front of her, even if it mean strangulation, she was willing to drag him by the hair back to the mortal world._

_"I'm sorry, Rukia," he apologized, not knowing how to make it any better._

_"Then come with us," she beseeched._

_"You know I can't."_

_"You could," she murmured. "Please?"_

_He shook his head, trying to swallow a sudden lump that had taken permanent residence in his throat. The vaizard boy opened the door of his chamber, moving aside, giving her room to walk out._

_Her eyes were splattered with a light of unexplainable emotion: anger, fear, hatred, pain, and an overwhelmed sorrow. Then, she stood on her tip toes, with poise in her stance, and kissed him fully on the lips_

_In that moment, all of his hard earned resolve, along with his knees, nearly gave away. Just with her lips pressed against his, her scent protruding in on his senses, everything that he'd just said was almost blown away. Oh, God, how he'd love to stay with her, go back with her, and live together. If this was anything, it was intoxication, vulnerability at its highest peak. He found himself kissing back, holding his hands to the sides of her face. He wanted to tell her everything and anything, all of it, but when they broke apart, gasping for air, and his brain unclouded, he remembered._

_He had to protect her._

_Then, she whispered against his lips, her rousing scent overpowering his nostrils once more. "This isn't goodbye, Ichigo, not by a long shot."_

_He bit his lip, fighting against his own longings._

_"Leave. Leave and never, ever come back, Kuchiki Rukia. Live a happy life," he barely managed to bite out._

Wi_th that, she walked out, with that infuriatingly poignant stance of hers._

---

She didn't look so poised now, did she? She didn't have to scream for him. She didn't need to throw her pride out the window as she did now. Why did she choose now to kick dignity out the front door? Didn't she believe him? Did she still not understand that he _needed _to protect her? He chewed on his lip, watching as the last pixels of the frame gave away to the image of Rukia being hauled out of the premises of Hueco Mendo. He could feel the thick substance of blood trailing down his chin, as well as the sour tang that etched itself into his taste buds.

He detected an aura burning, but didn't bother to turn around to identify its owner.

"Kurosaki-kun."

"They left," he abruptly cut in, his voice drenched in pain.

"Ah."

"I'm sorry, Inoue."

"For?"

"Sending them away. I-I was being selfish, but, but I really need this, Inoue! I have to do this. I selfishly took away from your life to save them, and I can only say sorry, but I had to. I had to save Rukia!" he tried to explain. He could feel the edges of his already inane sanity starting to fray.

"It's okay, Kurosaki-kun. I, I can almost understand," she spoke slowly, choosing her words. "I don't want anyone to get hurt because of me."

"I'm going to die here, Inoue," he declared, suddenly, staring at the screen, eyes desperately searching for the fragments of Rukia. "Not now, not soon, maybe. But, I will die here."

"K- Kurosaki-kun," she hesitatingly stared.

"It's okay, though, because, I'm ready to die. I already feel a lot better. Knowing that Rukia is alive is more than enough to make me happy. It's more than enough to keep me breathing."

The girl then nodded. "I see," before walking away. His disregard for his own life was decided.

As soon as she left the room, he sank into the nearest chair, giving an embittered sigh.

---

"Aizen! Are ya' insane? Why'd'cha let Kuchiki 'n Abarai, 'n those other two go?" a highly puzzled ex-3rd Squad Captain lamented.

"Calm down, Gin," Aizen reproached. "Either way, they will all die. I am positive. The boy and his friends, they will all end up very much dead. They are merely prolonging their demise."

The fox-faced captain looked dissatisfied with his vague reply. "I still wanted to keep Kuchiki."

"You will. All in time, Gin, all in time," assured the arrancar leader.

---

End Restriction One.

---

Gin has an Osaka twang/dialect. In most countries, there are different dialects. In the U.S. they're called accents. Like the famous Texas, California, New York, Canadian, Australian, British, French, and Irish accents. Only, in some Asian countries, such as Japan and Korea, there are many dialects, depending on where the person lives and what city, and how rural the area is. Gin has an Osaka dialect, used on people portrayed as kind of clumsy and blundering. So, I tried to do an interpretation of a country dialect. Don't know if it worked.

Sequel to be posted tomorrow.


End file.
